


A Moment Away

by marelicarter (padmefuckingamidala)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Multi, Steve Rogers (mentioned) - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:00:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22294435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/padmefuckingamidala/pseuds/marelicarter
Summary: You and Bucky have a great thing going on--causal sex, no strings attached. You want to be more than fuck buddies, but Bucky has a different idea about your relationship.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 118





	A Moment Away

When Bucky told you he liked spending time with you, you didn’t think much of it. You thought maybe, okay, he wanted to fuck around with you a bit and then move on. Life would continue on after the slight, well, could it even be called a heartbreak?

Truth is… Bucky was so good to you. He was great in bed, whatever, but he was also sweet to you afterwards. After everything was said and done, after the bliss and the hookup, and after you two were dressed once more, he still smiled at you and filled your heart with hope. It happened time and time again, until it became a routine. Weekends were for working the early morning shift (luckily just Saturday, and not going back in until Tuesday) and coming back to your apartment to find Bucky in the kitchen wearing boxers and a t-shirt making breakfast.

“I made you those really nasty omelets you like,” he said, glancing up as you walk through the door. “Your roommates are gone, too. Wanda wanted me to tell you to have fun, Nat said please get milk, and Sharon asked if you like the color blue.”

You froze where you were, your arm extended as you were ready to hang up your keys. Oh. That was... a question. Whenever someone—usually not you, because you were typically single and lonely—brought a guy around more than twice, Sharon feared the worst. It was her code for, “are you okay in this relationship or arrangement?”

“Oh,” was all you said for a minute. After your keys were hung properly and your shoes were off, you joined him behind the stove. “I’ll have to text her.”

“Is it urgent?” he asked. “Or can I kiss you?”

You were so caught up in the bliss of your realization—because yes, you loved blue in this context and yes, you wanted him to kiss you—that it took you another moment to pull back and say, “Hey! Stop saying my omelets are nasty just because you don’t like veggies in an omelet.”

“Meat and cheese, baby, meat and cheese,” he chuckled before leaning in to kiss you.

There were a good amount of hookups, too. Weekends, Tuesdays, test days, holidays, whatever. It was almost random at first, and that was fun. It quickly turned into a whenever-something-happened situation, and oh boy, that was exciting. Bucky came to your apartment, asked to be let in, and grabbed you on either side of your face to sweep you up in a needy kiss. 

“Not that I’m complaining,” you murmured, “but what was that for?”

He just shrugged, brushing wisps of hair from your face. “I thought I bombed a test, but I didn’t. So I’m gonna fuck ya senseless.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Good,” Bucky echoed before capturing your lips in another heated kiss.

Today, though, was a different Thursday. It started horribly, because of course your period came a week early and your laundry wasn’t done, so you felt like a slob going through all your clothes. Even if you wore a dress, you would have felt shitty and gross. You pulled on a pair of jeans--what a shitty day for all your leggings to be dirty--and searched for a sweatshirt or another baggy shirt.

Bucky’s sweatshirt was the first thing you saw, from the corner of your eye, thrown over the back of your desk chair. It was a plain grey one with the college’s logo; too big for you, obviously, but still soft on the inside and subtly carrying the scent of his cologne. He wore an expensive cologne, too. “A gift from a friend,” Bucky explained when you complimented him. “He has… Pretty expensive taste. We’ll call him a sugar daddy of sorts.”

“You befriend all the sugar daddies?” you asked with a smirk. “It’s working in your favor so far, I’d say it’s a great gig.”

Bucky laughed, pulling it over his head and throwing it over the back of your chair. “Not all sugar daddies, nah. Just the ones my other friend’s friends.”

“Steve, right?”

“Yeah, Steve. Can’t believe you remembered that.”

“I remember a lot of things you tell me,” you told him, grabbing his t-shirt and bunching it up for him to yank it over his head, only to throw it in some other direction. “Gotta hit off the conversation before ya penetrate me, right?”

Bucky laughed again, deeper this time. “Yeah, sure,” he said between his laughter, “maybe I’ll quiz ya next time. You only get laid if you can pass.”

“Passing grade is a C?”

“Hmm. B.”

“Shit.” You moved to unbutton his pants, sinking to your knees in front of him as you stared back up, chin tilted high, a smile playing on your lips. This was one of your favorite things to do, especially to him. “Well, what about an oral exam?”

“Fuck you,” he breathed, but there was no heat behind it. Not when you were too good to him.

Bucky sat behind you in calculus as he did every Tuesday and Thursday, always walking into the classroom two minutes after you and brushing his elbow on your shoulder as he passed you. He sat in his seat, as always, and leaned forward as much as possible. “Nice sweatshirt,” he said quietly, the smirk almost audible.

“Yeah? Some dude left it by my place.”

“Oh, dang. I bet he’s been looking for it.”

“If he was too worried about it, he could have came by to get it,” you answered. “Maybe I’ll keep it forever until he comes by.”

Nothing was said until class was over, when Bucky leaned forward and tapped your shoulder. “Hey,” he said when you turned around, “wanna study at Joey’s after this?” It was only Thursday, though. Too eager to wait until Friday? How bold. Thursdays were rare. He was very sweet, though, even if it wasn’t your normal Friday night, and you agreed.

Joey’s Coffee soon became your before-sex ritual. You studied, laughed, and talked with Bucky for hours until the sun began to set. College was fun! Embarrassing stories and funny stories weren’t sparse, not in the life of a college student at least, so you two had plenty to talk about and exchange. It almost felt like a date, though, which was something you would never admit out loud that you wanted. With Bucky, though, it was everything to you. A date with him--to date him, that is to say--would be the only thing you could ever want. As students began to leave, Bucky looked at you as he always did, eyes sparkling with want and a slight smile pulling at the corner of his lips. He always smiled at you, even when it wasn’t about sex.

But tonight was not one of those nights, unfortunately. “I should probably tell you before you get your hopes up,” you murmured. “It’s, uh, that time of the month.”

As much as you were looking forward to spending time with Bucky, you weren’t about to lead him on. He was nothing but sweet to you, even if it was only a hookup thing, as much as it made your heart ache. You didn’t want to ruin what you had, though. You left everything as it was and, well, prayed for the best. Maybe someday he’d love you or ask you out on a date, but for now, you were happy being a fuck-buddy.

And then Bucky made it incredibly hard to ignore the romance-starved side of yourself by nodding and saying, “That’s fine. Wanna grab dinner?”

Dinner. Okay. Yeah, sure. Dinner. It wasn’t anything fancy, as most college-budget dates go, but he took you to a little diner and talked with you for hours. You looked at this man as he laughed with you and nudged your foot under the table and wondered--why the hell couldn’t life be like this all the time? He was so close yet just out of your grasp, almost as if he was teasing you. Bucky Barnes was an absolute sweetheart and you were tumbling head over heels for him.

After he paid and led you out with a hand on the small of your back. “I can still do something for you,” you said under your breath, “if you want. I just can’t exactly participate.” You would do a lot for Bucky, if necessary--anything to keep him at your side a bit longer. If he wanted a blowjob, but God, you’d give him one.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he said with a wink, opening the passenger door for you. “It’s late, and you work in the morning, let’s get out of here.”

He stayed with you that night, inviting himself up to your apartment--which you didn’t argue, because holy fuck, you wanted him to follow--and settling into bed with you after showering. He kissed your forehead goodnight and woke up with you bright and early, when your alarm went off at four in the morning, to kiss your forehead again and wish you well before you went off to work.

When you came back from work, a little before noon, Bucky was standing at the stove preparing breakfast as he always did. “Smells good,” you said, hanging up your keys and setting your purse at the counter.

“Doesn’t it always?”

“Don’t you have classes on Friday mornings?”

Bucky nodded, grabbing plates from the cabinet before twisting back around. “Yeah, but class was cancelled today, so I figured I’d make you some food. How are you feeling?”

“Better now that I can eat.” 

As you walked towards the fridge, he caught your waist as you went, pulling you back to him in an embrace. He captured your lips in a kiss, slow and caring, before grinning down at you. “I even made one of those nasty veggie omelets you like so much.”

“My hero.”

“And maybe had some time for some chocolate croissants.”

“You know how to make croissants?”

“No,” he said smugly, “but I know how to reheat them.”

And the routine continued. Bucky was so nice for the next few months that you were losing your mind--how could a man that only wanted sex be so nice to you and act almost like a boyfriend? He took you places, he let you wear his hoodies, he stopped the car in an empty parking lot one night because his favorite song was playing and he wanted to dance with you. Fuck buddies didn’t do those kinds of things. Boyfriends did. The constant kisses drove you insane, and you knew you’d get hurt eventually, but you just kept leaning in and pretending that Bucky loved you as much as you loved him.

“How’s Bucky?” Wanda asked one night as you came home from another “date,” or whatever Bucky wanted to call it.

“He’s fine,” you told her. “Still Bucky.”

“You guys are so cute together.”

You snorted. “I wish.”

That gathered the attention of Nat and Sharon, too, who glanced around from each other for a split second. The other two pretended to be busy with whatever they were doing while Wanda continued: “I thought you guys were dating?”

“We’re only fuck buddies,” you sighed, “but I don’t know how to tell him I like him. And he keeps doing all these cute things, like dating-things, that it drives me insane. I want it to be real, but--” You stopped as soon as you felt a tear trickle down your cheek. “Great,” you laughed through the rest of the tears clouding your vision, “now I’m being a baby about it, huh?”

Wanda wrapped an arm around you as you quickly wiped your tears. “Hey, hey, hey,” she cooed, “it’s okay. I’m sure everything will work itself out.”

They all shared another glance, baffled that you were oblivious.

The next week was normal for the most part, except that Bucky wasn’t answering any of your texts as of Thursday. You hadn’t seen him since Tuesday in class when he smiled after the professor left for the day and said you two should have hit up Joey’s.

“I actually have to study for an exam tomorrow,” you told him sadly, trying to hide your disappointment. “Thursday after class?”

“Sounds great,” he agreed. He swung his bag over his shoulder as he stood and leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead before leaving.

But Thursday was here, and along with the lack of text messages, he also decided not to come to class. That one was… worse. You waited in your seat for him to show up and brush against you like usual, but he never came. The class dragged on and left you wondering what you did wrong. It was because of Tuesday, wasn’t it? Declining the Joey’s invitation? He was probably out fucking someone else that didn’t worry about their grades, and now you were sitting in class with a sinking feeling in your chest.

You packed up after class without Bucky there to talk with or to follow you out. Everyone else passed you, walking around you as if you weren’t even a person to consider. It wasn’t like their view of you mattered--you didn’t care about them. None of them mattered to you like Bucky did.

On your way back to the apartment, your phone rang in your pocket. A text from Bucky. Of course.

J. BARNES: Joey’s?

YOU: Dude I’m like halfway home.

It didn’t matter to you, though. You turned quickly and began to walk back towards Main Street for Joey’s. God, your cheeks burned with embarrassment. How could you be so easy, so desperate for attention? He didn’t even love you! You bit back tears, convincing yourself it was due to the slight chill in the air, and made your way to Joey’s.

J. BARNES: Please? I’ll buy you a coffee.

YOU: Well…

J. BARNES: :(

YOU: Get my usual? I’ll be there in ten.

J. BARNES: :)

You made it to Joey’s in nine minutes, nearly shivering from the slight chill of the outside air. Bucky’s sweatshirt--the crewneck you practically claimed--was barely enough this time of year, but you didn’t care. You’d overheat with a coat on over the crewneck, and opted for comfort, both physically and emotionally. As you stepped into the coffee shop you relished in the warmth and scanned the place for Bucky.

“Y/N!”

You saw Bucky waving to you, standing with… a girl. And a bouquet of flowers in his other hand. Holy shit. He was going to ask you to meet his girlfried.

He saw you already, you couldn’t just leave. The pounding in your chest was hitting the base of your throat and ringing in your ears. Were you human? Were you okay? Fuck this. You raised your foot to take a step forward and thought you saw stars, but it was just anger towards yourself you felt as you walked towards him, the man you couldn’t have.

Except... Bucky hugged you and pressed a kiss into your hair before pulling away and handing you the bouquet. Fragrant, white roses were nestled inside, decorated with forget-me-nots and wrapped beautifully, finished off with a ribbon. “I hope they’re okay,” he said, watching your face as you looked up with confusion. “I’m not the best at this sort of thing, but I wanted to do something for our six months.”

“Six months,” you repeated. The way he said six months would imply that the two of you were dating. Exclusively. Like, as in, meaning, alluding to the idea of, well, a couple. Just the two of you, in love, romantic styles. It was only something you’d dreamed about and fantasized about for the last few months, which was apparently the duration of this surprise relationship. But then who was the girl? You glanced over at her nervously. 

“Oh!” He pulled the girl beside him over and ruffled her hair despite her protests. “This is my sister, Becca. I wanted you to meet her.”

Becca pulled you into a brief hug before pulling back and looking at you, taking you in. Becca was stunning--she had the same blue eyes and shoulder-length brown hair that was pinned back on the sides.“It’s so nice to meet you, Y/N,” she said genuinely. “Bucky told me all about you. I can’t believe he landed someone so pretty, you’re so stunning.”

You were still baffled by Bucky’s statement. Six months. Have you two been dating this whole time? You replayed every instant in your mind, every encounter and loving touch he’d given you. Your cheeks were heating up and you felt silly, standing there wondering if it was even possible to miss such a monumental event. “I--”

“Don’t overwhelm her,” Bucky scolded lightly.

You looked at Bucky for an explanation, confused as he pulled Becca away, but he was almost upset by your stunned silence. “I didn’t know what to do,” he admitted, nervously playing with his fingers. “I didn’t want to be overwhelming, but I wanted you to meet Becca at some point because… well, this is serious.”

Serious. It’s serious, but you had no idea it was even a thing. Before you could help it, you started to cry—the flowers fell to the floor and your hands scrambled to hide your face away from Bucky and now, a concerned Becca. Everything you wanted was suddenly yours--or, well, announced that it had been yours for six months--and you felt like a joke. Maybe Wanda had said something, or maybe, fuck, maybe Sharon or Nat, or-or-or-or--you didn’t know. You cried into your hands and tried to ignore the way people stopped to look at you, wondering why you were crying or what was going on.

“I told you it was too soon to meet the family,” Becca said punching Bucky’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Y/N. This is probably a shitty anniversary gift—“

“I didn’t know we were dating,” you sobbed, not caring how stupid it sounded. 

“Doll, I can’t hear you,” Bucky murmured, pulling your hands back from your face. His hands gently held your wrists captive, drawing them back so he could look at our tear-soaked face with a frown. “What’s wrong?”

“I didn’t know we were dating,” you repeated, sniffling.

“What?”

“I was so upset because I didn’t know how to tell you I liked you and-and-and now we’re somehow dating?”

Bucky was dumbfounded. He grabbed your hands gently but Becca couldn’t help but to laugh so hard she clutched her stomach. You looked back to Bucky with wet eyes and a trembling lip. “I like you so much it hurts,” you sniffled, still shaking. “I was upset, but I didn’t wanna say anything because I didn’t think you liked me—“

“I told you I wanted to be more,” Bucky murmured. He released one of your wrists, and with his free hand, he gently began to wipe away tears from your cheeks. “Hey, hey, don’t cry. I’m sorry. I thought we talked about it, please don’t cry, doll.”

You sucked in another breath and continued. “—and you let me wear your hoodies and you snuggled me and I thought, well, maybe I’m just a really good lay, and maybe I can pretend, and I was just… I can’t believe I didn’t see it, I’m sorry, this is so embarrassing.”

Becca couldn’t hold back her laughter, even as she picked up your flowers. You never felt so embarrassed in your life, crying in front of your crush’s sister over something stupid. She pressed the flowers into your hands, which you grabbed shakily with you free hand, and rested a hand on your shoulder. “Bucky is so gone for you,” she told you through the laughter, which slowed into chuckles. “He tells me about you all the time. He has never called me at four thirty in the morning with a tummy ache because he likes you so much--until you.”

Four thirty in the morning? That was when you left for work, typically. It didn’t take you long to get ready, especially since you were there before the store opened, and even for that first hour or so they were opened, you were in the stock room. You gave up waking up earlier to look nice so you could spend an extra half hour in bed with Bucky. You kissed him at exactly 4:25 in the morning to be out of the door by 4:29. Always. 

Bucky moved his hand from your face to swat at Becca. “Stop that! I already look like a dumbass, let me handle this.”

“You invited me here,” Becca argued, swatting back.

“Because I thought we were dating!”

“And I’m trying to help you,” Becca huffed. “I gotta help you ask her out because you didn’t do it right the first time!”

You wiped the rest of the tears with the back of your hand and looked up to Bucky. His cheeks were red with embarrassment, but the blue eyes were the same blue you fell in love with, the blue that grounded you. “Do you remember when I came home from work? And we fell into a routine?”

Bucky stopped shoving Becca and turned to face you completely. “Yeah,” he answered, straightening out. “I made you some nasty omelets.”

“I told you, putting vegetables in omelets isn’t nasty,” you retorted. It was your turn to playfully slap at his shoulder. “You always told me you were making me an omelet. After two weeks, I was so fucking tired of eggs that I wanted to vomit every time.”

Bucky looked bewildered. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because you were there,” you told him. “You were there, and we were acting all couple-y and I loved it. I would have choked down a million more omelets if it meant I could keep you a bit longer.”

Bucky squeezed your wrist with the hand still wrapped around it before releasing it, all in favor for grabbing your hand instead. “You don’t have to eat another omelete to prove anything. I wanted to be with you--I still do. I want to wake up next to you some more, and I want to kiss you goodbye in the morning, and I want you to meet my family, as annoying as they can be.”

“And I want that, too.” You smiled wide, happy to finally admit everything. It was like a weight had been lifted. “Just to make it clear, if you ask me out this time, I’ll catch on. I promise.”

Instead of asking, Bucky couldn’t help but huff out a laugh and pull you close to him, cradling the back of your head in his hand as he kissed you in front of what felt like a hundred on-lookers. It was like every other kiss you’d shared--it was perfect, leaving you blissfully dizzy, but now, you were officially his.

“Wanna date me?” Bucky asked. “Like, boyfriend-girlfriend styles? Is that forward enough?”

“You’re such a smart-ass,” you laughed. “But I guess I’d still like to date you.”

“Thank God.” He captured your lips in another kiss, the two of you ignoring Becca’s snarky comments and the cheers of everyone else in Joey’s.


End file.
